The World Around Us
Awaking blithe each morning,
with eyes upon the World,
I wonder, are we mourning
with ebon flags unfurled –
or are they but a warning,
some draped like snakes and curled,
stray stars and stripes adorning,
sent from the netherworld.
I wander through the garden
with nothing on my mind
and say 'I beg your pardon'
alarmed at what I find
as winds begin to harden
and fate begins to grind.
Confused, I watch my neighbours,
they're wide-eyed, unafraid
to halt all useful labours
and join the death brigade;
the ritters rattle sabres,
the frail and fragile fade,
morticians tap on tabors,
the potentates parade.
The military blesses
(in tunics somewhat browned)
its crimson-stained successes,
hell bent and heaven bound.
Such scenes no more distress us:
a bloody battleground,
dissevered heads with tresses
and arms and legs abound;
the fourth estate suppresses
the heaps of bodies found
(collateral excesses
discarded in a mound).
Society regresses,
now living by the sword,
with torture and its stresses
upon a waterboard;
a captive kid confesses,
his innocence ignored -
fallacious facts and guesses,
the guts of justice gored!
With canting vindication
a big brass bully brags
(with pearls of perspiration
and swollen tongue that gags)
of third world subjugation
for gelt and oily swags,
of human rights' castration,
and on and on it drags.
The manifold migration
of refugees in rags
while searching for salvation
soon finds compassion lags;
uprooted populations
are fleeing from their flags
else dying of starvation
as naked hunger nags.
With trump cards politicking,
two little hands (all thumbs)
may send the Mad Dog siccing.
Insane! All sense succumbs.
Atomic timepiece ticking
until the Reaper comes
as Geiger counters clicking
drown out the droning drums.
Cast out for not conforming,
I wander day by day
to find the earth deforming
as nature wastes away,
with bees no longer swarming
(expunged with garden spray)
and ocean depths transforming
(neath plastic overlay).
With CO2 performing
the climate's led astray,
the atmosphere's been warming,
the grasses ashen gray,
eternal tempest storming
while permafrosts decay,
and ozone holes are forming
in deadly disarray.
The people profiteering
descend a slip'ry slope
destroying, never fearing
of running out of rope;
instead they sit back sneering
“our wealth’s your only hope”.
Yes, Armageddon's nearing,
it's doubtful that we'll cope,
for Evolution's jeering,
she's scanned our horoscope:
we'll soon be disappearing
with whale and antelope.
Epitaph
The multitudes were jumbled,
some milling ’round the mall,
while politicians bumbled
when bracing for the brawl.
The World around us rumbled,
our backs against the wall,
as bombs were tossed and tumbled
across our broken ball.
My kneecaps creaked and crumbled
but I, too proud to crawl,
took but a step and stumbled
yet found no place to fall.
And no one heard me grumble
although I tried to call,
or maybe I just mumbled,
as strength began to pall.
Well now the World’s been humbled
I seek an urban sprawl,
but since the feuds were fumbled
there’s nothing left at all.
Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2017
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